|
"Baby Series 3"Written By: Karina Rating: PG Spoilers: None Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing or the Characters from the series but the baby is mine. Pairing: Trowa x Quatre Notes: Challenge 116. Baby Series 3 #117. Takes
place approximately 15 hours following White Picket Fences. Many thanks to ShenLong for her work betaing
this fic.
Fuzzy Offness It was deliciously warm and comfortable. The hum of the air conditioning was a faint background noise, soothing in its never ending rhythm. For the longest time he lay there, luxuriating in the comfort. There was the faint scent of lilies, but more enjoyable to him was the lingering scent of his lover. Now that would have been wonderful, to lie abed, curled around that long, lean muscled body, drinking in the scent and warmth that was uniquely Trowa. Ah, now that would be wonderful, to lie here in each others arms, savouring the night time hours as they explored each others bodies. Oh yes, he could go for a little bit of flesh exploration about now. The need to visit the privy was growing more urgent and disturbed his comfortably fuzzy thoughts. He really needed to visit the bathroom, but that would necessitate moving and he had nothing but praise for the comfort of the bed he had not seen enough of in the last few months. Bed? He was in bed? A frown replaced the sultry smile that had crept onto his face during thoughts of exploring his lover's body. He had a vague recollection of sitting at his desk with his head buried in the paperwork for… Quatre lifted his head from the pillow and looked about the room. It was darkened but there was something wrong. He must have decided enough was enough and come to bed… but if that was right where was Trowa? He was definitely alone in the bedroom and there was no impression of a head in the pillow beside him… and why did everything have this vaguely fuzzy offness about it? It was as though he had been… drugged? The door to the bedroom opened and his momentary flash of relief at seeing his lover's unmistakable silhouette faded as emotion not his own crawled along his skin. The light snapped on and he saw Trowa was dressed quite sexily in a dark suit, his arms laden with folders. Striding across the room, Trowa unceremoniously dumped the files on the bed beside Quatre. "I have to praise you for your unswerving dedication to your company, Quatre, but enough is enough. You will get off your arse and start to dismantle the mess you have made so the morons who work for you don't enjoy sitting on their keister's getting exorbitant wages for doing nothing until they are told to scratch their spreading collective arses. You will get this company working so there will not be a next time when I have to knock you out and deal with the mess before you kill yourself. You are wonderful, you are a miracle worker, but the world does not revolve around you! You are Quatre, my Quatre, not Winner Enterprises, and if you do not do something about the mess you have made, then I am walking out the door and I will never ever come back!" ~ * ~ |
